


Contrivance

by narsus



Category: Shin Megami Tensei: Devil Summoner
Genre: Dark, Implied Relationships, M/M, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-11
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-09-16 22:02:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9291401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/narsus/pseuds/narsus
Summary: Honour, propriety and jealousy.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Shin Megami Tensei - Devil Summoner belongs to Atlus, Sega and associates. Devil Summoner: Kuzunoha Raidou tai Kodoku-no-Marebito belongs to Taiyō Makabe, Anjū Harada, Kirihito Ayamura and associates.

He always feels different when he's dressed like this. Stranger and colder. Almost as if he is becoming someone else. He'd like to say that that doesn't make any sense and that this is no different to a grandmother at a wedding in black tomesode sporting family crests. He'd like to say that he's only putting on a more formal costume for an occasion. None of it any different than dressing up to visit relatives back home. He'd like to say and think that. After all it's not unusual for a man to wear formal clothing in the process of undertaking important business especially when that business involves formal ritual. The sword at his side might not be a legendary blade but it has been inherited which is good enough. The trappings are all there. He's not acting out anything unusual or different from the actions of his predecessors and he's certainly not going to make any cracks about how many members of his family might have frequented Fukagawa-Cho in the past. It might even fit with his public persona to visit more frequently himself. Frivolous men did that sort of thing he'd heard even if tonight's trip wasn't a casual visit and rather the delivery of a necessary warning.

He didn't usually get involved in this type of thing directly. There wasn't call for it and it would have been beneath his station to take action before. One didn't get publicly involved in the affairs of devil summoners. It was... distasteful. Besides, Raidou was capable of managing his own business: he'd proven that time and time again. In fact, had the weight of circumstance and clan not mudded the whole matter Shouhei would have preferred to leave well alone. It wasn't his business who young devil summoners were sleeping with. The status of guardian was something he held legally only because Raidou was fifteen. He didn't care what the kid did on his own time even if a liaison with a mob boss wasn't entirely appropriate. Other people probably did worse anyway. It was hardly an issue. Shouhei didn't care either way. That was his story and he was sticking to it. It didn't fit with his public facade to be concerned about it anyway. He was the carefree, careless, owner of a private detective agency who'd never even notice such things. Self-indulgent private detectives who let their teenage staff do all the work didn't let themselves be bothered by this kind of thing in the slightest. So what if Kenzou Satake was dangerous or if Raidou's reputation might be damaged? So what if a potential scandal would ruffle the feathers of the Yatagarasu organisation? So what if Shouhei had every intention of disembowelling Satake on the spot if the rumours were true.

He was only doing his duty. The Yatagarasu organisation disliked scandal and disruption. This was his job: keep an eye on Toykyo's protector, ensure that he adhered to his task and make unequivocally certain that he wasn't distracted from his duty in any way. The organisation would ensure that anything Shouhei did tonight never reached the papers. He could execute every member of the Kantou Haguro-gumi, burn Fukagawa-Cho to the ground and still justify himself to the organisation as having acted in their best interests. They might even commend him on his ruthlessness. The only problem was, if the rumours proved to be true, Raidou would never forgive him. Fantasies of murdering Satake were one thing but the consequences of that action could potentially be devastating. If the rumours were true he couldn't act against Satake openly even if he was, eventually, still going to kill him.

Someone more carefree or progressive in their attitude might leave well alone but Shouhei was neither of these things. He could admit to himself that he'd brought the matter to the organisation's attention for his own selfish reasons but wasn't about to explain that to anyone else. He was defending their reputation as well as Raidou's as far as they were concerned. In his position this kind of action was expected. Except when it wasn't. There aren't actually any formal rules around how the guardian of the capital might conduct themselves though others occasionally had an opinion. Yatagarasu itself, the messenger of Heaven, hadn't ever been documented as being concerned with such petty human intrigues. The Will of Heaven was fairly simple in that matters of good conduct, justice and Japanese sensibility were to be observed. Yatagarasu didn't care if a schoolboy fell in love with a gangster instead of a detective. The, so called, Voice of Yatagarasu did care on some level because the spirits of the Nameless Shrine seemed to love nothing better than to interfere even if they didn't really understand the subtleties. Historically they had been fairly liberal in handing out punishments for numerous, unwritten, infractions after all. The Yatagarasu organisation on the other hand hadn't taken any sort of stance on the matter until Shouhei had brought it to their attention. He'd done his best to spin a tale of potential scandal and disrepute, a story that could end in dire consequences for the capital if it lost the focus of its protector. It was based on this argument that they had given their permission to act; at least that had been their official mandate even if the oldest of the Heralds had smirked at him from beneath her hood.

He had permission. Anything he decided as appropriate would be permissible. He just hoped that Raidou wasn't in Fukagawa-Cho tonight. Not least of all because he didn't want to see the answer to his question with his own eyes. He certainly didn't want to deal with a confrontation now and then wage a campaign of subterfuge whern he had to pretend to have nothing to do with Satake's accidental death later. Still, it could open up another possibility if that became his solution. An accidental fall in the bathhouse that cracked the man's head open was a tragedy but entirely without a perpetrator to blame. It would be the type of senseless death that Raidou would mourn and require comfort for and Shouhei could be just the man to provide that comfort given the circumstances. It could in fact put him in a better position if he let the matter resolve itself with an accident. Unfortunately it also opened up the possibility that Raidou might mourn for a very long time. A further alternative was to stage something, some kind of yakuza showdown that ended up in Satake's death or perhaps even a crime that contravened the Yatagarasu organisation's will. Sadly both options there were a little too convoluted and would lead to an investigation by the police or even Raidou himself. Shouhei didn't like those odds. Raidou wasn't stupid and would figure out sooner rather than later that somehow Satake had been set up. If Raidou then figured out it had something to do with someone within the Yatagarasu organisation itself there would be trouble.

Shouhei had never had this kind of problem when it had come to planning battle strategy in the Imperial Army. The crux of the matter wasn't particularly elaborate: he wanted to do away with a rival. There was nothing overcomplicated about it. He was jealous. He wasn't even sure his jealousy was founded on truth but he was already half deranged with it. Here, on a cold Tokyo evening, he was making his way to the docks in the regalia of a Yatagarasu Captain, sword at his side, ready to slaughter his foe. This was the kind of nonsense that folktales were written about.

Meeting with Satake didn't turn out to be as difficult as he'd expected. The mob boss seemed to have wandered away from his associates on the docks, choosing to have a solitary smoke, while they apparently busied themselves with digging through barrels of fish. Night had fallen but the moon was bright enough to pick out the figures distinctly a little way off. They were lit by the lights inside the warehouse. Satake only had the pitiless moon shining down on him. There wasn't too much cover between the warehouse and the water though Shouhei could have made use of it. It was just that he wasn't quite enamoured with the idea of a swift and unseen execution. That wasn't how the organisation operated: they liked people to know why they would die. Besides there were assassins he could have called on if that was what he had wanted. Instead he wanted a confrontation, confirmation that the rumours were true, before he did anything else. Easier to step into the man's path and go from there really.

For his part Satake overcomes his surprise fairly well. He takes in Shouhei's appearance calmly and they have, what is to all intents and purposes, an amiable conversation. The type of infuriating, typically circumspect, conversation where nobody really gives away any answers. It's only a handful of words exchanged and a fractional inclination of the head, that certainly isn't a bow, as they both back away from each other. Shouhei finds himself in a pool of shadow first and therefore gets to break their locked gazes in the comfort of darkness; a face-saving gesture if ever there was one. He's glad of it anyway otherwise matters might have ended in bloodshed out of ego rather than necessity. He stands motionless in the darkness for a few moments, practically holding his breath until Satake decides that he's alone and abruptly turns back to whatever his business at the dockside really is. Shouhei supposes it might be a small victory.

On the way home he hardly feels victorious. He's done very little to boast about. He's done enough to report back to the organisation that the matter is taken care of and that he's extracted a promise of future discretion. That's what they will be expecting. They won't care that a mob boss is a better wordsmith than Shouhei had anticipated. Yatagarasu might not care if a schoolboy fell in love with a gangster instead of a detective but Shouhei can't even figure out if he's just received confirmation of one outcome rather than the other. All it would have taken was some blunt speech, a direct statement, perhaps even a scoffed denial. Instead Satake had smirked as he'd given an entirely indirect and easily misconstrued reply. He'd smirked at Shouhei just as the Herald had done. As if they were both in on the joke, the punch-line to which might be that neither of them really needed their eyes. Shouhei doubled that even the most eloquent gangster could hold his position for long without his sight.

The black mass what whistles past his face is perhaps warning enough not to pursue that train of thought further. The crow's cry splits the air as a barrels past and Shouhei makes an antiquated gesture of protection with his left hand out of habit. The Herald's eyes stay in her head then. Tonight providence is not on his side. Time to go home and drink instead. Nothing he plans tonight will come to fruition and most of it will be the type of jealous nonsense that would be a better fit for some kind of tragic romantic novel. Tonight he'll drink the most expensive bottle of whiskey he can find in his office. As much of it as he can finish. Maybe he'll even pass out on the floor. It's not as if it matters anyway. Tonight he'll indulge in drunken regret and melodrama.

Tomorrow he'll begin to plot the type of murder that the papers will write about for decades. The type of murder that will end in a tableaux so spectacular that even the Voice of Yatagarasu will hesitate to articulate a suitable penalty for his crime.

**Author's Note:**

> One can only imagine that Lady Murasaki left Japan and married Robert Lecter to get away from this kind of thing all without realise that her bloodline might actually be the catalyst.


End file.
